


Closed Doors

by UnproblematicMe



Series: Reverse Omens: Golden Snake and Black Cat [7]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Reverse Omens, Scene: St James's Park 1862 (Good Omens), Torture, no happy ending YET
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 05:14:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26467786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnproblematicMe/pseuds/UnproblematicMe
Summary: Crowley attempts to get his hands on the stolen Orb of Power. All he wants is to be with Aziraphale and to keep Aziraphale safe. But he may already be too late.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Reverse Omens: Golden Snake and Black Cat [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1645828
Comments: 47
Kudos: 70





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Rating and warnings may change later. I have not yet decided how intense it is going to get so keep an eye on rating, warnings and the tags before reading upcoming chapters.

It was way easier than it should have been. Breaking into the security centre of Heaven should not feel like sneaking into your neighbour’s kitchen to steal cookies. But it kind of did.

Crowley had chosen the day of the weekly assembly so the other angels, especially the Archangels, would be in the council hall. Of course, certain important points still were guarded by a selected few who had to miss the meeting.

But those selected few were not exactly taking this seriously. It was of course nothing but a reflection of the overall self-complacency of Heaven. The feeling of superiority and invincibility often made the angels careless and therefor vulnerable. At some point Crowley probably should talk to Michael about the lack of security.

At this very moment however, he benefitted from it. Izrail and Aleah were deep in conversation when Crowley quietly approached, scurrying from behind one marble column to the next. The bridge leading to the security centre was levitating in the air, surrounded by the vast endlessness of Heaven. But Izrail and Aleah did not patrol on it or even look in its direction, too focused on each other and their chat.

They did not notice Crowley, spreading his wings and flying towards the bridge from the side. With the two guards none the wiser, he landed on the solid ground and as silently as possible darted towards the entrance of the large flying dome.

As expected, nobody was there. The Archangels were the only ones allowed in here and they all considered themselves too important to miss an assembly. All except Gabriel. He had excused himself for important business on Earth. In the back of his head this gnawed on Crowley for some reason, but this, too, was to his advantage right now. Gabriel was the only Archangel that was more than vaguely aware of Crowley’s existence and therefor the only one who might notice his absence.

The five remaining Orbs of Power were kept at the heart of the security centre. So Crowley kept going.

There they were: Six velvet cushions resting on a round marble table. Four of them each underneath a shining sphere, one keeping safe a faded orb, one empty.

Crowley hurried over to the second from the left as Aziraphale had instructed him. Carefully Crowley lifted the orb that was resting there, putting it on the empty cushion for the moment. Then he examined the now free one and indeed it was much heavier than it looked. He found the seam and opened it.

Excitedly he reached inside and after a while, with a triumphant grin, he pulled out a glowing sphere that had been hidden inside for millennia.

“Smart kitten,” he whispered to himself, hiding the orb under his robe, a fond smile playing along his lips at the thought of Aziraphale.

Of course. After the theft of the first orb, it had become an absolute taboo to even move the remaining ones. So hiding the stolen one underneath another had been an almost safe bet. A certain risk had remained, but any other spot in Heaven had been thoroughly searched. And success had proven Aziraphale right.

As precise[1] as Crowley thought Aziraphale would do it, Crowley restored the place’s former appearance. He repaired the cushion and put the orb he had moved back to its original location. After checking one last time, he nodded, satisfied with his work and snuck to the exit.

He was ecstatic, but a voice in his head[2] reminded him not to become too confident. Getting cocky could lead to getting caught and he really did not need that. So he carefully opened the door and peeked out. Nobody was in sight and so he slipped out the door, closed it behind him and scurried towards the bridge.

The way back was as easy as the way in. After flying over the chasm around the bridge, he waited behind a column for a few moments. Izrail and Aleah still paid no mind to their surroundings and it was no problem to rush down the corridor and get back to the main hall.

Smiling a confident smile, Crowley sauntered towards the escalator. He was about to step on it as suddenly a loud “Hey, you!” stopped him.

He turned around to look into the ice-blue eyes of the Archangel Michael.

“Corael, right?” she asked.

“Crowley now,” he corrected.

“Oh?”

“It’s a ‘blending in with humans’… erm… thing.”

“I see,” Michael said, but her expression told Crowley that she did not see at all and did not care. “What are you doing, Crowley? You can’t be done already.”

“Done?”

“With your task. You were at the assembly, right?”

“Who would want to miss it?” Crowley quickly asked.

“Nobody I would hope,” Michael answered with a raised brow. “All angels stationed on Earth were instructed to submit their recommendations for Sainthood before returning to Earth after the assembly. Weren’t you listening?”

“Of course I was!” Crowley said, making sure to put enough indignation in his voice. “In fact, I already finished my recommendation list last month. I just left it on Earth since I didn’t know I would need it today.”

“Oh!” Michael said, surprised and with something that might have been a smile. “That’s commendable. Then go get and bring it to me or Uriel as fast as possible.”

“Of course, Archangel Michael! Your wish is my command!” The charming wink that accompanied Crowley’s words, earned him nothing but another raised eye brow and so he mumbled a goodbye and took the escalator to Earth.

*

“Kitten!” Crowley walked into Aziraphale’s bookshop with a wide smile. “Good news: I found the thing. Bad news: You’ll have to help me make a list of humans worthy of Sainthood and…”

Standing in the door to Aziraphale’s backroom, Crowley halted. It was tea time and this usually meant his demon would be right here with a cup of Earl Grey and a lot of biscuits. But the room was as empty as the sales area. Frowning Crowley hurried up the stairs to the small flat above “A.Z. Fell’s Books – old and new” to look for Aziraphale.

When nobody answered his calls, he rushed through all rooms, only to find them all abandoned. He was just about to leave as he suddenly took a faint whiff of something familiar that was decidedly not Aziraphale’s demonic signature.

Gabriel!

Crowley growled. Rage and panic rose in him at the thought of Gabriel getting his hands on Aziraphale. Apparently Aziraphale’s attempt to find the orb on his own had alerted Gabriel and now he wanted another try at getting its whereabouts out of Aziraphale.

Forcing himself to calm down, Crowley sorted his thoughts. The orb was safe, but Aziraphale could not know that yet so he would not give away its hiding spots. He was strong in mind and body and would resist Gabriel’s torture - maybe for too long. Gabriel had a temper. He seemed all polite and charming, but if things did not go his way, he could be brutal and cruel, even towards fellow angels. What he would do to a demon who enraged him, nobody could tell.

Desperately Crowley tried focusing on Gabriel’s signature to find out the Archangel’s location. But it eluded him, again and again. Gabriel had covered his traces. He did not want to be found. Crowley knew that he was not powerful enough to track down an Archangel who deliberately hid from prying supernatural eyes.

Almost nobody was powerful enough to do that. Almost.

*

Heaven’s main area was busy. Angels of all sortsand ranks bustled around, talking, hurrying to report to their superiors or rushing back to their posts. It was crowded, but the grim determination emanating from Crowley as he crossed the hall had everybody step or even jump aside to let him through.

Without paying attention to anything else, Crowley had his eyes fixed on Uriel and Michael while approaching them. The two Archangels were engrossed in their conversation but looked up when Crowley’s loud footsteps echoed through the corridor.

“Corael,” Uriel greeted with a nod.

“It’s Crowley now,” Michael said. “It’s a ‘blending in with humans’… thing.”

Crowley ignored her teasing tone. Neither did he expect her to understand humanity nor did he have time for this now.

“I have something to show you,” he said instead.

“Oh good! We need your Sainthood recommendations.” Uriel held out her hand while eyeing Crowley expectantly.

“It’s not that,” Crowley said, reaching inside his robe.

He pulled out the orb, holding it up in front of the two Archangel’s faces. Their eyes widened in surprised and shock.

“But it’s a lot more interesting.”

[1] As not to say „pedantic“

[2] A voice that sounded astonishingly similar to Aziraphale’s.


	2. Chapter 2

It was his own fault really. England had become his home country, London his home town and the bookshop his shelter. So he felt safe here. A big mistake. For any demon. But especially for one on the Wanted-list of an Archangel.

This morning when Aziraphale returned home, he was too engrossed in his concern for Crowley, convinced that he himself was in no immediate danger. After locking his shop’s door behind him, Aziraphale crossed the sales area, biting his lips and wringing his hands in front of his body. He was heading for his backroom, planning to distract himself with some tea and a book.

In the end he could not be sure if it was his own inattentiveness or the intruder’s superior powers, but whatever the reason, his senses alerted him too late. When he felt the familiar tingling caused by an angelic being, he was already seized from behind.

Something made of dark linen was put on his head, blocking his sight. Before he could even think about pulling it away, his wrists were grabbed and held in place by a strong hand while another one ripped his coat and shirt in one swift move. His muffled protests at this treatment of his beloved clothes were ignored, but soon this became his least problem.

He struggled against the hold, using all his limbs to resist, until all of a sudden a hard object was pressed against his exposed skin. Confused he tried to make out what it was, but in the next moment he screamed in agony.

The mysterious item suddenly flared up with immense heat, sending hot white pain through his body. His own cries hurt his ears, but the pain was too intense to keep quiet, no matter how much he wished to not give his tormenter the satisfaction of making Aziraphale suffer.

As the excruciating pain finally faded, Aziraphale noticed that in addition to his body’s exhaustion, his soul was weak as well. He could feel his own demonic essence pulsating deep inside his being, but he was unable to unleash its powers. Not even the smallest miracle was possible, not to speak of one to free him of an angel’s grip.

So Aziraphale’s body reacted in a very human way to the hard blow against the back of his head and fainted.

When he regained consciousness, Aziraphale found himself in an old shed. It did not look like it was used much. The old wood, which walls and floor were made of, was dark and several cracks slithered through it. Cobwebs were in the corners and the glass of the only window was broken. The only piece of furniture was the chair Aziraphale was tied to in the centre of the shed.

To his dismay, his upper body was completely naked, leaving him only in his trousers. He felt a numb pain in his back and his powers were still inactive. He noted several small bruises on his skin, probably from his journey to this glum place.

A squeaking sound made him snap up his head. The door of the shed opened and it came to no surprise that the smug face of the Archangel Gabriel appeared in the frame. Aziraphale narrowed his eyes at the angel he had admired so much a long time ago but had come to despise within a moment.

“Gabriel,” Aziraphale said, friendly despite himself. “You could have just called me, you know?”

Gabriel chuckled while closing and locking the door. Quickly he approached the chair Aziraphale was bound to. His footsteps were loud and threatening as his elegant shoes hit the wooden floor.

“I had an inkling you might decline a meeting, Aziraphale,” Gabriel answered, his cheerful voice an unnerving contrast to the cold hatred in his eyes. He bent down to his captive and whispered, “But I really really really wanted to talk to you.”

“I wouldn’t know what there is to talk about.” Stubbornly Aziraphale held the gaze of the creepy purple eyes. “It’s not that you and I have much in common.”

Contemptuous, Gabriel looked Aziraphale up and down and sneered, “Indeed not, demon.”

“Glad we agree,” Aziraphale smiled. “I suppose I can go then?”

Gabriel laughed.

“Surely not,” he said. “As much as I hate to admit that a lowly creature like you has something I need, it is unfortunately true. Your little stunt recently proves that you did leave the orb in Heaven. So you will tell me now where it is.”

Knowing that it would infuriate Gabriel, Aziraphale cast him a pitiful look.

“Oh, Gabriel,” he said with fake sympathy. “We’ve played this game before, haven’t we? Thousands of years ago. Why would you think I’ll tell you now what I didn’t tell you then?”

For a moment fury flickered on Gabriel’s features, but he calmed himself fast. A cruel grin spread across his face instead.

“Oh, sunshine,” he said, grabbing Aziraphale’s chin. “Things are different now. For one, we don’t have to be afraid that Michael storms in any second to interrupt us. We have all the time in the world. And…”

Gabriel pulled out a simple dagger. He let his fingertips glide along the blade and the metal began to glow in a bright golden light. Aziraphale hissed when the Archangel put the blade against his exposed upper arm and stifled a cry of pain when Gabriel dug it into his skin.

“… for two, you are a demon now. All my power, everything I am, my very _being_ is designed to cause you pain,” Gabriel continued. “You _will_ talk. But I hope you’ll take your time. I’ve been wanting to make you scream for a long time.”

*

Michael’s elegant fingers slid over the orb’s smooth surface, awakening it. She looked at Uriel and Sandalphon. Sandalphon remained stoic, but Uriel nodded. Michael took a deep breath and activated the orb.

A flash of light appeared, engulfing Michael in a bright glow. He blue eyes suddenly shone in a rich gold and she emanated even more power than usual. At the same time the orb opened and replayed its memories.

The orb had been sleeping in its place and awoken to someone touching it. It was clear as day. Unmistakably it was Gabriel’s face appearing in the picture the orb showed. The Archangel grabbed it and held it against his sword. A small power of the orb flew into the weapon. But not all of it which was why it still was awake to record further. Gabriel hid it in the darkness under his robe. It was blind but not deaf. So they learned that Gabriel had sought out Lucifer.

“What is going on?” Lucifer’s voice asked muffled. “One of the orbs is gone?”

“Yes,” Gabriel answered. “Everyone is pretty upset.”

“Understandable. Any suspicions?”

“Even better.” Gabriel’s voice suddenly was full of dark meaning. “I will give them a culprit.”

“You know who did…? Gabriel, put down your sword, will you? You’re making me nerv…”

The orb carried Lucifer’s cry towards the present angels’ ears. It was a wail not only of pain, but also of heartbreak, betrayal and rage. A loud thumb was audible, most likely Lucifer collapsing.

It was very painful, but for Crowley it was worse to later hear Aziraphale’s sweet and trustful voice as he turned to Gabriel for guidance. To ear-witness his love being used, discarded and betrayed hurt Crowley to an almost physical extent.

The orb remained blind until it was pulled out again in front of Lucifer’s and Aziraphale’s surprised and fearful faces, Gabriel blaming them for the theft and the rising rebellion.

Then they saw Aziraphale grab the orb and hide it so it could sleep again until Crowley woke it.

“I think we’ve seen everything of interest,” Michael said with an inscrutable expression, the orb’s power giving her voice a strange hall.

She touched the little sphere and the borrowed power left her body, returning into the orb to be kept safe.

For a moment nobody spoke. They all stared in silence at the now sleeping orb in Michael’s hands.

“Lucifer… was innocent,” Uriel broke the silence.

“Well, I would not call him innocent,” Sandalphon objected. “He had been stirring up trouble and doubt among the host. That’s what caused so many to take his side when he was accused of the deed.”

“And weren’t they right to take his side?” Uriel asked. “They defended him against an accusation we just learned was unjust!”

“Had he not displayed this tendency to disobedience and waywardness, nobody would have suspected him in the first place,” Sandalphon said with an arrogant tone. “He reaped what he sowed.”

“No,” Uriel said. “He reaped what Gabriel sowed. You cannot actually…”

“If not for his reputation, Lucifer would not have been the prime suspect,” Sandalphon interrupted.

“Reputation or not,” Michael said. “Lucifer may be no innocent. But he was not guilty of the crime we banished him for.”

“Exactly!” Uriel said. “And all his crimes that followed were consequence of this.”

“Hypotheticals,” Sandalphon said condescendingly. “We cannot know how his character would have developed and judging from his behaviour...” 

“Can we focus on Gabriel?” Crowley asked, tapping his foot. “Whatever we think of Lucifer, Gabriel stole the orb, attacked a fellow Archangel, lied to Az… another angel and then to all of us. We need to confront him.”

“We wait for his return,” Uriel said.

“No, my… erm… sources say that he has a hostage. This angel, now demon, Aziraphale. He is a valuable witness of Gabriel’s crime,” Crowley said.

“Your sources?” Michael repeated.

“Well, of course,” Crowley answered with confidence. “As an agent on Earth you need a functioning and effective network to operate successfully.”

Uriel and Sandalphon nodded, apparently impressed. Michael seemed unconvinced, but dropped the topic.

“Do you know where Gabriel is?” Michael she asked instead.

“He is hiding. I’m not powerful enough to track him,” Crowley answered. “But you are, right? It takes an Archangel to undo an Archangel’s miracles.”

“Well,” Michael sighed. “Actually it takes four.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings and Tags updated, please check them before reading. For more info/spoilers see endnotes

Aziraphale did not know what was worse: the different methods to cause him pain or the pauses in between the attacks in which Gabriel just looked at him, his fingers tipping his chin, and pondered what to do. So far he had used a crop and a knife, both filled with Divine power, in different ways and on different parts of Aziraphale’s body. The demon’s skin was covered in wounds and bruises but not as many as one would expect. That was because Gabriel enjoyed causing an injuring and healing it immediately with angelic power, adding to the pain.

In the beginning Aziraphale had tried to stifle any sounds of pain, but soon had learned that since their last meeting Gabriel had become much more adept in torturing methods – not that he ever had lacked talent. The only way to defy Gabriel was refusing to answer his question and give him stubborn looks through tear-filled eyes.

Staring at his tools, Gabriel sighed.

“These get boring,” he said and turned to Aziraphale with a wide smile. “Let’s try the… direct approach.”

He put his hands on Aziraphale’s shoulders and smirked cruelly. At first Aziraphale cast him a confused look, but when Gabriel’s fingertips became warmer and warmer, the demon’s eyes widened in panic. Before he could even try to struggle, a painful surge of Divine Power rushed through his veins. His own cries sounded far away as his world was reduced to pure agony. He felt like he was burning from the inside and he probably was. Not only his human form was affected by this attack. His soul, too, was writhing in pain as the Holy energy touched it.

When, finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Gabriel withdrew his hands, the ache still echoed through Aziraphale for several minutes. Minutes in which Gabriel not once took his eyes of the demon.

Aziraphale refused to avert his eyes, even though tears streamed down his cheeks. With stubborn determination he held Gabriel’s gaze, watching the sadistic glee on the Archangel’s face spread wider.

When the pain finally subsided, Gabriel grabbed Aziraphale’s chin in mock tenderness, giving him a look of false sympathy.

“So what do you think, sunshine?” he asked. “Are you going to tell me what I like to hear?”

Trying his best to hide his fear, Aziraphale waited for his breath to even out. Then he cast Gabriel a polite smile.

“Telling you what you like to hear?” he asked. “Of course. Gabriel, you are the most handsome, best dressed and smartest angel of all,” he halted and asked innocently, “wait, it didn’t have to be true, did it?”

The slap across his face did not surprise Aziraphale, but still it hurt. It was ,however, in a strange way reassuring to feel such a pure physical sting, compared to the agonizing attack against his very being.

Gabriel stood straight, right in front of him, glowering down. His nostrils flared, his eyes narrowed, his lips contorted in a scowl and his whole body quivered with rage. But all of a sudden he relaxed.

Very slowly he hunkered down. Squatting in front of Aziraphale, he put his hands on the demon’s knees.

“You know,” he said, deliberately slow, while looking down at his own hands thoughtfully. “I always wanted to know what Lucifer sees in you. You aren’t exactly Hell material, are you? And still you get all the freedom of a high ranking agent. I wonder why that is.”

Aziraphale did not know what to say. Not that he thought Gabriel wanted an answer. A few seconds ago, Aziraphale would not have believed it to be possible, but suddenly the whole atmosphere in the shed was even more threatening, oppressive and suffocating.

When Gabriel put more pressure on Aziraphale’s knees and used it to spread the demon’s legs, Aziraphale began to struggle in earnest for the first time. Fully aware of his attempts’ futility, he tried to wiggle out of Gabriel’s grasp. If not for Gabriel’s quick reaction, Aziraphale probably would have knocked over the chair with his frantic movements. But with a quick snap of the Archangel’s fingers the chair was firmly attached to the floor and Aziraphale’s motions accomplished nothing but hurting himself with his restraints.

A dark chuckle fell from Gabriel’s lips at the sight of Aziraphale’s panic. He got up and grabbed Aziraphale’s hair.

“I must admit,” he whispered. “It’s not easy to put you in your place, but somehow Lucifer managed. I have an inkling, how he did it.”

In horror Aziraphale watched Gabriel’s trousers disappear, revealing his naked crotch. The Archangel had chosen male genitalia and had not been humble with the size. It was almost fully erect, apparently fuelled by Gabriel’s delight in abusing and tormenting Aziraphale.

“You will obey,” Gabriel snarled, gripping Aziraphale’s hair tighter. “I have all the time in the world to make you understand what a meaningless little whore you are. And when you finally understand, you will do as I say!”

With brutal force he manoeuvred Aziraphale’s lips towards his crotch. There was no escape. Aziraphale tried to squirm away, but he was at Gabriel’s mercy.

“Gabriel!” A familiar voice sounded through the shed, authoritative despite the light tremble in it.

Gabriel cursed under his breath while he miracled himself decent again before turning around. With Gabriel’s body no longer blocking his sight, Aziraphale spotted five figures that suddenly had appeared in the cabin, all well known to him but usually not present in the same room.

Leading the strange delegation was the Archangel Michael. Her facial expression was an amalgam of rage, sadness and horror. Uriel to her left fared hardly better, even if she was a bit more successful at hiding her emotions. To Michael’s right stood Sandalphon, infuriatingly calm, with his hands behind his back, staring at the scene.

Aziraphale saw Crowley behind them. His angel was visibly fighting the urge to just push past his superiors and get to Aziraphale. But as much as Aziraphale wanted to be in Crowley’s arms now, he hoped that his lover would be able to hold back lest he give them away.

But the strangest presence in the shed was without doubt the tall male, standing slightly aside the Archangels. Long silver hair fell on lean shoulders and eyes like black pearls took in the scene. Anger spread on the sharp features of the handsome face as soon as he understood what was going on.

“Lucifer?” Aziraphale asked with a voice, hoarse from screaming, but it was drowned out by Gabriel.

“Michael,” the Archangel said, stepping away from Aziraphale and lifting a hand to placate her. “I can explain.”

“I bet you can,” Lucifer growled, pushed past Gabriel and rushed to Aziraphale.

“You better!” Michael said firmly, her hands clenching into fists so hard that her knuckles turned white.

Aziraphale could not follow the Archangels’ discussion because with Lucifer so close he did not dare looking in the direction where Crowley was stood.

“Hey, sugar,” Lucifer whispered to Aziraphale as he removed the chains while the angels were getting involved in a debate. “Are you alright?”

“Never better, my Lord,” Aziraphale said. “Tickety-boo.”

Terrifyingly tender Lucifer cupped Aziraphale’s cheek and smiled, “Still such a bad liar.”

Lucifer started healing his wounds. At first Aziraphale focused on the wonderful feeling of fading pain, but at one point he became aware of the silence. He turned to look at the group of angels. They had all fallen quiet, staring at Lucifer, apparently astonished at his healing powers.

“What?” Lucifer said with a smirk without looking up from his task. “I was an angel once and when it comes to healing,” he patted Aziraphale’s shoulders, “I had a fantastic tutor.”

When Lucifer removed the mark that blocked Aziraphale’s powers, Aziraphale could not stop the loud moan of relief. A moment later he blushed, noticing that the angels’ eyes had flicked from Lucifer to himself.

“Well, that was a very touching re-union, guys and gals,” Lucifer said sarcastically upon finishing his task. “But Aziraphale and I will be leaving you to…” he looked Gabriel up and down, “…discuss Heaven’s work ethics. Let’s go, sugar.”

He helped Aziraphale up and was about to teleport them out of the shed when Michael lifted her hand.

“Wait!” She said.

*

“Michael,” Gabriel spoke, one hand held up in a placating manner. “I can explain.”

“You better!” Michael said, her body taut with barely concealed rage.

“I bet you can,” Lucifer said at the same time and shoved Gabriel aside to get to Aziraphale.

Crowley wanted to follow him, no actually, he wanted to run past Lucifer to get to Aziraphale first. But he knew that he would not be able to explain his immense concern for a demon.

With flaring nostrils Crowley watched as Lucifer freed Aziraphale, carefully touched his face, softly whispered to him and very affectionately inspected his wounds. Crowley suppressed a growl of frustration. It should be him, taking care of Aziraphale, but he could hardly voice this claim in the current situation. So he turned his gaze away from the scene and instead focused on the Archangels’ heated discussion.

“Listen,” Gabriel said with a smile which Crowley burnt to punch out of his face. “This is a demon.”

He pointed at Aziraphale, apparently convinced that his words explained and excused everything.

“We can see that, Gabriel,” Michael said coldly. “But why is he half-naked, covered in bruises and tied to a chair while you stand in front of him like… like you stood there as we arrived.”

“I assume Gabriel was interrogating the creature,” Sandalphon chimed in helpfully. “Probably finding out what vile deeds he was involved in.”

Crowley clenched his fists to keep them from flying into Sandalphon’s visage. As if Gabriel cared enough for humans to stop demonic viles. Not even to speak of the fact that Aziraphale posed no threat to anyone. But of course Gabriel took the offered out.

“Exactly,” he said, pointing at Sandalphon while nodding in agreement. “Interrogation.”

“How does interrogation need your… your genitalia in front of his face?” Michael asked, the disgust finally showing on her features. “This is a low, cruel, despicable and demeaning act!”

Gabriel made a wide gesture with his arms and gave her a confused look.

“It’s a demon,” he repeated, laughing.

Crowley almost lost it at that point, but Michael’s reaction saved him.

“I’m sorry, Gabriel,” she said.

She and Uriel grabbed Gabriel’s shoulders and restrained him with special chains while Sandalphon protested, insisting that this sure was not necessary. Gabriel agreed with him, struggling and debating.

Their discussion stopped abruptly. A warm golden light shone through the shed, catching their attention. Frozen in their current positions, the angels all halted and looked towards the two demons in the room.

Lucifer was – quite expertly – tending to Aziraphale’s wounds.

“What?” Lucifer smirked. “I was an angel once and when it comes to healing, I had a fantastic tutor.”

At the last words he smiled down at Aziraphale, patting his shoulders. It was an affectionate and possessive thing and made Crowley’s blood boil. This did not get better when Aziraphale suddenly moaned pleasantly after a swift move of Lucifer’s hand across Aziraphale’s naked back.

When Lucifer, after mockingly saying goodbye to his siblings, put his arms around Aziraphale’s body and one hand on his waist and said, “Let’s go, sugar.”, Crowley was fuming. The careful apologetic glance Aziraphale gave him, did not help much.

Lucifer was close to disappearing with Aziraphale, but Michael stopped them.

“Wait,” she said.

“For what?” Lucifer asked. “You said you needed help finding Gabriel and that it would be in my interest to assist,” he winked at Aziraphale, “and it was. Anyway, now you have Gabriel, I have Aziraphale.”

“We know what happened with the orb,” Michael said without further ado but swallowing hard. “That you were innocent.”

“Ohhh,” Lucifer said in fake admiration. “Only took you a couple of millennia.”

“Don’t be childish,” Michael said irately. “We should talk.”

Lucifer narrowed his dark eyes at her, considering her words.

“Hmm, maybe,” he said after a few seconds. “But not now. I need to inform the Dark Council. I’m sure some of them would love to join that specific conversation.”

“That… sounds fair.”

“It does, doesn’t it,” Lucifer chuckled. “To the next time, sister dearest.”

After a mock salute, he was gone. And with him Aziraphale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The noncon warning refers to attempted rape. Gabriel tries to force to perform Aziraphale to oral sex, but is interrupted at the last moment.  
> Aziraphale is also tortured by using Divine power against his demonic self. There are no graphic descriptions of physical torture, but it's still not pretty.


	4. Chapter 4

After walking the nightly streets for a while, Crowley spotted Aziraphale on the other side of the street, leaning next to the door of a tea house. Smiling Crowley watched Aziraphale who did his best to appear inconspicuous, occasionally glancing at his pocket watch. Quickly Crowley rushed over, snuck closer and tipped Aziraphale’s shoulder.

Aziraphale squealed, almost dropping his watch.

“Good Hell,” he breathed out. “Crowley!”

“Sorry, kitten,” Crowley said. “What are you doing?”

“Oh, erm, I am orchestrating adultery.”

“Orchestrating adultery?”

“Ah, yes, you see,” Aziraphale explained. “Lucifer loves that, but it usually brings so much heartbreak and sadness. So I found couples that mutually despise each other and play matchmaker between the spouses.”

“I see, no heartbreak and nobody can socially ruin the other without being ruined him- or herself.”

“Exactly,” Aziraphale said with a proud smile and peaked into the tea house. “Everything’s going well, so I have some time for surprise angel visits.”

“Sorry about that,” Crowley said. “I would have dropped by the shop, but…”

“…but we shouldn’t contact each other actively at the moment,” Aziraphale finished the sentence. “Which makes me wonder why you are here.”

Crowley frowned.

“Well, I missed you!” he said, a bit irritated. “And we should agree on a story. There will be a lot of questions.”

“Probably,” Aziraphale sighed. “I suppose we can find an explanation for running into each other in public should we be spotted.”

“To be honest, I think they are all too busy preparing for the meeting.”

“You sure caused an earthquake, dear.” Aziraphale sniffed after speaking and turned his gaze away.

“Wait,” Crowley said. “Are you mad?”

“No.”

“Well, you’re not not mad.”

“Nonsense,” Aziraphale said. “If I’m not mad, I am of course not not not mad, Crowley!”

“Erm…”

“Too many negations for you, dearest?”

“Maybe,” Crowley said, scratching his head. “Anyway, there is something wrong. What is it, kitten?”

“I just… with the orb we would have had something on Gabriel, should he ever catch us redhanded,” Aziraphale explained. “Now that everything is out in the open, we have nothing. But I know you felt you had no choice…”

“Excuse me, Aziraphale,” Crowley hissed. “I did not _feel_ like I had no choice, I _factually_ had no choice.”

“Maybe.”

“Well, no! Certainly!” Crowley insisted. “Anyway, this is much better!”

“How so?”

“The Archangels know now!” Crowley said with a huge smile. “They know that Lucifer’s banishment was unjust and so was the banishment of his followers. They will undo it. We’ll be on the same side and can just be together! No need for blackmail material.”

“I don’t know, Crowley,” Aziraphale said. “That sounds too easy.”

“No, it _is_ so easy,” Crowley said. “What do you think that meeting is for? I bet they are negotiating the Fallens’ return to Heaven.”

Aziraphale gave Crowley a careful smile.

“That would be nice.”

“Nice? Is it Understatement Day already and nobody told me?” Crowley joked and shortly brushed his fingers over the back of Aziraphale’s hand. “We’ll be together. No more hiding, no more deceiving, no more fear. Just you and me.”

Aziraphale dared entwining their fingers for a second.

“Sounds lovely,” he said, smiling. “Let’s go over our story then?”

“Good idea.”

*

The room was dark. Only the centre was illuminated by several candles, their flickering light making the shadows dance an eerie dance.

Aziraphale swallowed as he let his eyes wander over the assembled demons. They were all sat in a half circle under the pentagram on the ceiling, looking at him expectantly. Standing in the middle of the room, Aziraphale felt exposed and vulnerable.

Lucifer gave him an encouraging grin, Dagon and Beelzebub were visibly bored like he might as well be a lifeless statue, decorating the place, but Hastur and Ligur eyed him full of disdain and mistrust – as always.

“So, Aziraphale,” Beelzebub addressed him. “Tell us how that whole orb story began.”

“Ah, yes,” Aziraphale nodded. “As you know, I hid it in Heaven after Gabriel had framed Lucifer for its theft.”

“We _do_ know, Aziraphale,” Ligur said. “You’re not here to tell us things we already know.”

“Right,” Aziraphale said. “I… I thought it would be a nice gift for you, Lucifer, so I tried to retrieve it. I broke into Heaven, assuming my knowledge of it should be enough to go unseen. But near the Archangels‘ offices I was discovered by Uriel.”

Hastur barked out a laugh

“Wow, that was stupid!” he said.

Dagon snorted, “Shut it, Hastur, your wits wouldn’t even bring you past the entrance. Continue, Aziraphale.”

“Yes, Lord Dagon! So I was caught and barely escaped Heavenly territory. In my weakened state I ran into the angel Crowley. He was about to drag me to the Archangels. So I took desperate measures: I told him the truth. I told him…”

*

“…he knew where the lost Orb of Power was and that it would be prove that Gabriel framed Lucifer for its theft,” Crowley said, calm despite being under the gaze of the Archangels. “Of course I did not believe him, but was taken aback for a moment. He used my distraction to kick me in the chin and escaped.”

Sandalphon eyed him suspiciously.

“Why did you retrieve the orb yourself instead of telling us?” he asked. “You have no business in the security centre.”

“I didn’t believe a word of it,” Crowley laughed. “I didn’t want to waste your time. But I wanted to see if the orb was where the demon said. Maybe I _am_ guilty of Pride here. I wanted to be the one to find it.”

He hung his head, pretending to be ashamed. Being reminded of how much better suited against sin they were than other angels, usually flattered the Archangels enough to soften their anger.

“It’s alright,” Michael said. “It’s not our main concern right now, anyway. But when you found it – why not come to us then?”

“Again, Pride, Archangel Michael,” Crowley said quietly. “I know where the demon Aziraphale resides. I wanted to catch him, bring him to you, force him to repeat his accusation and then have the orb prove him a liar.”

“Then what happened?”

“I found him gone,” Crowley said and lied, “There were signs of a struggle. I wouldn’t have cared for a kidnapped demon of course, but I felt traces of Gabriel’s signature. Suddenly, I was no longer sure…”

“…that this was all a coincidence,” Uriel finished his sentence with a sigh.

“Right,” Crowley nodded. “A demon accuses Gabriel of framing Lucifer, even breaks into Heaven to prove it and then exactly this demon gets kidnapped by Gabriel? It was too much. So I came to show you the orb. You know the rest.”

“Indeed, we do,” Michael said, dryly but with a pained expression on her face. “Thank you, Crowley.”

“Of course.” Crowley gave her a curt nod and a smile. She was not his favourite person, but he felt for her. It could not be easy to discover that someone betrayed your trust for millennia. He asked, “What happens now?”

“We expect a delegation of Hell tomorrow to discuss how to deal with the new found information,” Uriel answered. “How to… make amends.”

Sandalphon scoffed, “Amends! To those… creatures. They were all disobedient faithless brats before the whole ordeal about the orb.”

“We discussed this, Sandalphon,” Michael said sharply. “I am in charge now and I say we meet with them!”

Sandalphon’s nostrils flared but he managed a polite smile, “Of course, Michael. My apologies.”

“You are dismissed, Crowley,” Uriel said. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”

Crowley nodded, bid his goodbyes and left.

*

The angels and the demons standing in line on each side of the corridor cast each other glances that were somewhere between curiosity and distrust. Only Crowley who had managed to wiggle into a position opposite of Aziraphale looked at “his” demon full of longing. Now and again Aziraphaly shyly returned his gaze and smiled.

When the Archangels and the Dark Council neared however, everybody stood straight and looked forward. The Archangels were accompanied by the Metatron, possibly to make the Divine group seem less decimated. As the members of the Dark Council Crowley recognized Lucifer, Beelzebub, Dagon and Hastur. He was a little surprised not to see Ligur, but even as an angel, Ligur had never liked talking so maybe he had wiggled out of the meeting.

The Archangels and the Dark Council disappeared in the large council room at the end of the corridor and everybody relaxed a bit. As much as one can relax with a bunch of your mortal enemies standing only a step away.

The angels clutched to the vials in their hand, containing Holy Water. The liquid in the little flasks appeared to be of a too tiny amount to actually harm a demon, but Crowley knew better. Uriel had demonstrated the use of the small weapon: if thrown and colliding with an object the vial exploded in a torrent of Holy Water, drenching the target completely.

Crowley was sure the small lanterns in the hands of the demons, encasing a tiny ball of Hellfire, were similar deceiving and would, if used properly, burst into a large flame.

Well, this was a peace summit, right? What use for fatal weapons could there be?

Crowley had just finished the thought when voices rang through the closed door at the end of the hallway. To his knowledge it was a very thick door so whoever spoke must be extremely loud to be heard on the other side.

Now several people were speaking and in addition Crowley heard scuffling. Growing nervous, he dared moving his head towards the noises.

His eyes fell on the door just in time to watch it burst.

*

Instinctively Aziraphale turned his head and threw his arms up to protect his face when the large door splintered into pieces with a loud crash. In the corner of his eye he saw a big figure flying through the air and landing on the marble floor with a thud and an “oof”.

Finally daring to look, he – alongside the other demons and angels in the corridor – stared at Sandalphon who lay on the ground and under curses struggled to get back up.

Through the destroyed door walked a furious Lucifer, his usually black eyes burning like fire.

“I did not come here to be insulted, you self-righteous bastard,” he growled. “Get up and we settle this once and for all.”

“Lucifer!” Michael appeared behind her eldest brother and grabbed his shoulder. “Please, calm down. Sandalphon didn’t mean it. You know how is.”

“Oh, I do know, sister dearest,” Lucifer laughed without humour. “Which is why I know that he did mean it.”

“I apologize on his behalf,” Michael said. “Let’s get back to…”

“Forget it,” Lucifer interrupted. “This is a waste of time anyway.”

“No, it’s not! You can come home, we can rebuild what was lost.”

“We do not need your pittance or forgiveness. Did you really think you could humiliate us, scorn us, treat us like dirt for thousands of years and we’ll just come crawling home after an insincere apology?”

“It was not insincere,” Michael said quietly. “I meant it.”

“It was still not enough,” Lucifer said. “We outgrew this place a long time ago. We’re leaving. Let’s go, folks.”

He marched towards the angels and demons, standing in line, the rest of the Dark Council right on his heels. The lower ranked demons followed suit. Aziraphale cast Crowley one last sad look and then left Heaven with his brethren.

When they arrived in the entrance hall of the large building that served as a disguise for the entry points of Heaven and Hell, the Dark Council suddenly was nowhere in sight. The other demons noticed as well, but after a while they shrugged and returned to their posts. For most that meant taking the stairs down to Hell, but a few, including Aziraphale, left the building and went back to their work on Earth.

Deep in thought Aziraphale returned to his bookshop. When he entered, his stomach dropped. The missing Council members were all gathered in his shop.

“Um, hello?” he said carefully.

“Hello, sugar,” Lucifer smiled, gesturing around the sales area. “Nice place you got here.”

“Yes,” Hastur said. “But why all the books?”

“Well, Duke Hastur,” Aziraphale said. “It _does_ help make the disguise as a bookshop way more credible.”

“Ah! Clever.”

Aziraphale suppressed the exasperated sigh and decided to focus on the matter at hand.

“Not that I’m not honoured at your presence, but what are you all doing here?” he asked.

“Just waiting for someone,” Beelzebub explained. “Figured we’d be too obvious directly at Heaven’s doors. So we chose your shop. It is a post of Hell after all.”

“Oh, yes, of course it is,” Aziraphale hurried to say. “And who are we… erm… you waiting for?”

“He’s already here,” Hastur smirked and opened the door.

At first Aziraphale saw nothing and began to wonder if Hastur may have finally lost his mind (he was candidate for it after all). But then suddenly the small form of an orange chameleon peeled out of nothing. Before long the animal grew and morphed into an attractive black man who grinned at the assembled demons.

“Duke Ligur?”

“Well, duh, Aziraphale,” Ligur said.

“What…”

“While we kept the Archangels busy, Ligur did some scouting,” Lucifer explained. “How did it go?”

“Like fishing in an aquarium, my Lord,” Ligur grinned. “Nobody noticed me. I memorized all key places and watched the guards at work.”

“Great!” Lucifer said.

“Wait,” Aziraphale said. “You never even considered returning to Heaven, did you?”

“Of course not!” Lucifer scoffed. “Why would we be eager to restrict ourselves again? We are free and we like it. Don’t you?”

Lucifer eyed Aziraphale inquiringly and Aziraphale hurried to answer, “Of course I do.”

“Glad we agree.” Lucifer put an arm around Aziraphale. “But this meeting was great for getting some information. And as expected that idiot Sandalphon gave me a reason to be appalled and make a dramatic exit.“

“Complacent as Heaven is, not much will change in the next centuries,” Dagon said. “This knowledge will give us a huge advantage.”

“Advantage? For what exactly?” Aziraphale asked.

Lucifer laughed and ruffled Aziraphale’s hair.

“Oh, sugar," he said fondly. "For Armageddon of course!"


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for taking so long with the last chapter. 
> 
> Please note the new tag “No happy ending YET”. This is of course not the last part of the series and it is going to be fine in the end. Promise! If you want to know more (including spoilers) before reading, check the end notes.

The members of the Dark Council left Aziraphale’s shop. Only Lucifer stayed behind and cast Aziraphale a questioning look.

“What is it, Aziraphale?” he asked. “Everything went great. I couldn’t tell you beforehand, it was Council members only and…” he paused and groaned, “Damn, I’m a fool. It’s Gabriel, isn’t it? I swear, sugar, if he had been there, I would have killed him personally. But he wasn’t. But we will get our chance. He will not get away with what he did to you.”

A comforting warm hand landed on Aziraphale’s shoulder and he could not help but smile a bit.

“It’s not Gabriel, my Lord,” he said. “I am just surprised that you are so eager on Armageddon. It’s after all part of the Great Plan, more of a Divine thing…”

“Pfff, good things are good, no matter who comes up with them. When Michael says water is wet and fire is hot, I will not argue with her,” Lucifer laughed. “Heaven wants another War because they are sure they will win. But I know better.”

“Oh?”

“Yes! Not only do we have valuable information on Heaven now,” Lucifer said. “I also have another advantage,” he lowered his voice, “Have I ever told you about the spirit I met in the cosmos that encouraged me to stand my ground against Mother?”

“Yes, the Satan.”

“Exactly,” Lucifer smiled. “Dagon has done some research and experiments. We can use the spirit's power to create a weapon. I shouldn’t tell you. It’s Council matters,” he cupped Aziraphale’s cheeks, “but I trust you. You saved me. I owe you.”

“Th… thank you, my Lord,” Aziraphale stuttered.

With a smile Lucifer patted Aziraphale’s back once more. He gestured around the shop.

“Dagon made your shop angel-proof,” he said. “You’re safe here now. But you can always come home. Just say the word.”

“Thanks, but I’m good.”

“Yes, I know, you like it here on Earth.” Lucifer sighed. “Don’t worry. We’ll keep some of it in the end. Until the next time.”

With a charming wink Lucifer stepped back and waved. Then he was gone.

Now Aziraphale allowed his body to shake. Relieved to be finally alone, he let himself fall against one of the bookshelves. This was not good. Not at all.

*

After the dust had settled, metaphorically speaking, the Archangels were nowhere to be seen. They had probably resided to Michael’s office to confer about the failed meeting.

After a few hours however, Crowley’s patience ran out. Determined he walked towards the closed door and knocked. When nobody asked him in, he entered anyway. Michael sat behind her desk, Uriel and Sandalphon stood in front of it. They all slowly turned their heads towards the door.

“Crowley,” Michael greeted tiredly while Sandalphon and Uriel remained silent. Uriel looked defeated, Sandalphon’s expression was inscrutable.

“What now?” Crowley demanded. He was not in the mood for the careful approach and he was sure neither was Michael.

“Well, you only missed the build-up,” she deadpanned. “The finale you saw as did everybody else. Lucifer and the Dark Council refuse to return to the Host.”

“Yes, I heard,” Crowley said. “But what about the others?”

“The others?”

“The other demons,” Crowley clarified. “There are millions of demons. We should ask them, too, if they want to return. Surely, four demons do not speak for all when they say they prefer Hell.”

Michael sighed and turned at first to Uriel, then to Sandalphon.

“We were done here, anyway,” she told them. “Go back to your work, please.”

Uriel and Sandalphon nodded and left.

Confused Crowley looked after them for a second. Then he asked, “What’s going on?”

Michael leaned forward, folding her hands in front of her chest. Frowning she pressed her lips together, avoiding Crowley’s gaze, before she finally addressed him.

“Crowley,” Michael said, still not looking at him. “We… cannot let them back in.”

“What?” Crowley exclaimed. “That… that’s not fair. We cannot punish them all for the decisions of a few.”

“It is unfortunate, I will admit this,” Michael said. “But they served Lucifer and the Dark Council for thousands of years. We could never be sure where their loyalty lies.”

“They had no choice!” Crowley argued. “It’s not that there are many factions to choose from!”

“I’m well aware of this, Crowley,” Michael said. “But we cannot allow God knows how many potential spies in our ranks.”

“This is…”

“As I said ‘unfortunate.”

“No, ‘unfortunate’ is when you spill your tea,” Crowley growled. “Punishing millions of former angels for something they are not responsible for is injustice. I cannot believe that…”

The noise of the door opening interrupted Crowley’s rant and he turned his head to see who entered.

Crowley’s eyes widened, his mouth fell open and his hands clenched into fists. A hiss escaped him at the sight of Gabriel himself, sticking his head into Michael’s office.

“Oh, my apologies,” he said with a smile that fuelled Crowley’s anger like oil thrown into a fire. “Is this a bad time?”

“I’d say any time is a bad time when nobody is ripping off your…,” Crowley said.

“No, Gabriel,” Michael was quick to interrupt. “Crowley and I were done.”

“Like Hell we were!”

“Language, Crowley,” Michael admonished.

“There are millions of demons who were wrongfully banished out there who you refuse to rehabilitate and _he_ is still here?” Crowley asked, wildy gesturing at Gabriel.

“Oh, I regret my deeds and am very sorry,” Gabriel said automatically like this would explain or excuse anything.

“You caused the first War, lied to all of us, kidnapped, tortured and almost raped someone,” Crowley snapped. “And you say you’re sorry???”

“Erm, yes,” Gabriel answered, visibly confused. “That’s what I said. Did you not hear me?”

“Michael!” Crowley said in a mixture of a plea and a demand.

“Gabriel.” Michael pointed to the door. “It seems like I need another moment after all.”

With a nod Gabriel left the room once more and immediately Crowley hissed at Michael.

“You cannot be serious!”

“We all agree that Gabriel’s actions were despicable,” Michael said. “But he did express his regrets and so – as angels – we need to give him a second chance.”

“Are you…”

Michael grabbed Crowley’s arm and whispered, “You were there, Crowley. You saw how powerful Lucifer has become. Hate Gabriel all you want, but he is strong. We cannot afford to lose this amount of power! I will keep an eye on him. But the War will come and then we will need him!”

Everything in Crowley wanted to keep arguing, but this tiny voice that was his reason told him that there was no use. Michael had her goals and she needed Gabriel for it or at least was convinced she did. No matter what Crowley would or would not say, he could not change her stance.

So he nodded grimly.

“I see,” he said. “I’ll return to my post. Good day, Archangel Michael.”

Quickly Crowley turned around and left Michael’s office. In the hallway he passed Gabriel, but spared him no word or glance. Too high was the risk that he would just punch the disgusting Archangel.

On his way back to Earth Crowley tried to calm himself and sort his thoughts. He could not rely on Heaven. The Archangels held power in higher regard than morals, the other angels were clueless and God... A humourless chuckle escaped him at the thought of Her. She had not spoken to anyone for millennia. No advice, guidance, let alone active support was to expect from Her.

Crowley knew he needed a plan. And so he made one.

He treaded carefully, did his best not to draw any attention and never mentioned the orb or the connected events again.

Apparently Michael was too relieved about Crowley falling back in line to question him too much. Maybe to make amends, maybe to keep him happy and quiet, she waved through all his requests for resources and looked into none of his miracles. She let him be as long as is reports were in on time.

After a few decades the angel Crowley, formerly Corael, was known among the humans as Anthony J. Crowley, a wealthy reclusive with many resources who offered well-paid work to those who were familiar with the weirder things in life and could keep their mouth shut.

Crowley had a wide-spread and highly functional network of spies and occultists at his disposal to help him achieve his goal. Neither Heaven nor Hell could be trusted so he had to make a safe place for Aziraphale and himself on Earth.

A luxurious home, secured by runes and spells against all angels and demons who were not Crowley or Aziraphale was built with Heaven’s resources. A circle of powerful witches, paid with information and other favors, helped him create an early warning system for supernatural creatures and Crowley made sure to be well-stocked with Holy Water.

It was almost perfect. Just one more thing.

*

On a mild autumn day in 1862 Crowley made his way through St. James Park. The late afternoon sun fell through the trees, the birds were singing and people seemed to be in an overall good mood. So was Crowley.

His meetings with Aziraphale were infrequent since Gabriel had kidnapped the demon. Lucifer kept a closer eye on Aziraphale and naturally they had to be more careful now. It was bitter irony how Crowley now could appreciated how easy their relationship had been with regard to the fact that it probably was the most forbidden love in the history of the universe. Nowadays they both were nervous and glancing over their shoulders on the rare occasions they could meet. Crowley barely recalled the last time he had properly taken his lover.

It drove Crowley crazy to live in the same city as Aziraphale, having his kitten right under his nose and still be unable to see, let alone touch, him most of the time. Lucifer’s hovering over Aziraphale made things worse. While Crowley appreciated the extra protection for Aziraphale, he could not help the rising jealousy. After all he had always been the one to protect Aziraphale. Even now that all these years had passed Crowley could not shake the picture of Lucifer freeing, healing and soothing Aziraphale. How the Morningstar had touched Aziraphale and looked at him was a vivid image in Crowley’s mind.

Still Crowley looked forward to seeing Aziraphale. Maybe Aziraphale could be persuaded to go somewhere private after their talk. Together they had found a way to alter the bookshop’s angel protection so Crowley could enter again.

However, they had some things to discuss first. Soon everything would be sorted out and this frustrating phase would end.

He spotted Aziraphale at the lake, feeding the ducks. With a wide smile Crowley hurried over.

“Hello, Aziraphale,” he said, swallowing the nickname Aziraphale at the moment did not appreciate hearing in public.

Even though Aziraphale smiled back, Crowley neither missed how the aquamarine eyes flicked over the surrounding area nor the nervous tapping of Aziraphale’s left foot.

“Hey, it’s alright, kitten,” he whispered. “I told you I learned some tricks. If there were any demons or angels aside from us in the park I would know.”

“Of course,” Aziraphale said, biting his lips. “Sorry, dear.”

“It’s alright,” Crowley said. “I get it. Force of habit.”

Aziraphale nodded, “Indeed.”

For a moment none of them said a word, Aziraphale wringing his hands, Crowley fighting the urge to grab and kiss them.

“So,” Aziraphale finally broke the awkward silence, “you wanted to see me?”

“I always do,” Crowley smiled. “But yes, I needed to talk to you. I need your help.”

“My help?” Aziraphale asked, his voice weirdly strained. “You have been acting all secretive these last decades and suddenly you want my help?"

“I have a plan, love,” Crowley said. “But it’s not complete and there was just no need to burden you with it until now.”

“Plan?” Aziraphale frowned. “To achieve what?”

“What do you mean?” Crowley asked. “To achieve that you and I can be together in peace, of course.”

Aziraphale sighed as his face softened a little.

“Alright, dear,” he said. “What do you need?”

*

Confused Aziraphale watched while Crowley – instead of answering his question – started to search his pockets and finally pulled out a folded piece of paper. After looking around for several seconds, Crowley handed it to Aziraphale, wearing a conspiratorial expression on his face.

With a raised brow Aziraphale took and unfolded it. His heart dropped as he read the word. A single word, written in Crowley’s hand.

“Hellfire”

His head snapped up and he looked at Crowley. In Aziraphale anger, fear and sadness fought a battle that must have shown on his face because Crowley furrowed his brows.

“What?” he asked and smirked, “After all these years you are able to decipher my handwriting, aren’t you?”

“I can read just fine, Crowley!” Aziraphale snapped. “This… this…” he waved the piece of paper around. “Out of the question! I’m not bringing you a suicide pill!”

“What? No! That’s not what I want it for!”

“What other use would an angel have for Hellfire, please?”

“Protection, kitten!” Crowley said. “I think time has proven by now that Heaven cannot be trusted. Neither can Hell. I prepared everything for you and me to be self-sustaining, to live without them. I have a safe home, a stock of…”

“Are you crazy?” Aziraphale interrupted. “They would never let us go!”

“Not willingly, no,” Crowley said impatiently. “That’s why we need weapons. We can scare them off so they will leave us alone.”

“Scare them off?” Aziraphale repeated, mockery in his voice. “The Powers that Be?”

Crowley drew in a sharp breath.

“Well, _I_ am willing to try,” he said in an accusatory tone. “ _I_ want to be with you without the ever present chance of being caught.”

“I want that, too,” Aziraphale gave back. “For the longest time, the only one to possibly catch us, was Gabriel. That’s why I wanted the orb – to make him back off should the need arise. But _someone_ had to rock the whole boat, drawing attention of all our superiors to us and give up our only leverage!”

“This again?” Crowley growled. “He had kidnapped you! I needed to do something!”

“And of course you did the first thing on your mind! Because coming up with an alternative idea would have needed some thinking!”

“Oh, excuse me that I was not thinking straight when the man I love was in the hands of a sadistic bastard.”

“I would have come up with something!”

“Oh really? Could have fooled me! Because when I arrived, it looked like you were bound, helpless and about to be ra…” Crowley stopped himself midsentence. “I just wanted to protect you!”

After a deep breath Aziraphale said, “I understand this. I feel the same. That’s why I cannot bring you Hellfire.”

“I will be careful, kitten,” Crowley promised with a smile. “You can teach me the save use.”

“I trust that you would be smart enough not to get killed by a Hellfire lantern that you activate yourself,” Aziraphale sighed. “But I cannot support your plan as a whole. Heaven and Hell are too powerful. You cannot not walk away from them. All you’ll achieve is getting yourself killed.”

“So what’s your plan, Aziraphale?” Crowley hissed, grabbing Aziraphale’s arm. “Always nervously glance towards the door while I take you? Live in fear until the end of time? And when the end of time arrives, we kill each other?”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Aziraphale said. “There is enough time left. I’m sure we can come up with a plan to both survive the Final Battle.”

“And after that, kitten?” Crowley demanded. “I go back to Heaven, playing the harp forever and you go downstairs to do what? Be Lucifer’s personal assistant?” Muttering under his breath he added, “I’m sure _he_ would like that.”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh come on, Aziraphale! Don’t play clueless. Lucifer would love to have you close for the rest of eternity. He is all over you!” Crowley answered, annoyed, and could not stop himself from saying, “Thinking about it, I don’t hear you complaining too much about his… attention.”

Full of indignation Aziraphale stared at Crowley, eyes wide and mouth agape.

“I… you… how can you…” he sputtered. “He is the Lord of Hell, Crowley! How do you suggest I _complain_ about him? And to whom?”

“I’m sure the smiling, blushing and stuttering are not obligatory in a conversation with Lucifer, are they?”

“I can’t say I like what you are implying,” Aziraphale said coolly. “Besides, I do not see what it has to do with anything.”

Crowley lifted his shoulders, pursed his lips, looked into the distance and said innocently, “I don’t know. Just wondering if maybe you wouldn’t mind to go back ‘home’ because you are so… close with your boss.”

Eyebrows raised in provocation, Crowley turned his eyes back to Aziraphale who could barely contain his anger. With defiance he returned Crowley’s fiery gaze, stood as tall as he could next to the angel. Aziraphale crumbled the paper and encased it in his fist. A thought turned the note to ash which crumbled to the ground.

“There is no point in discussing it further,” he said with finality. “I will not bring you Hellfire and will no longer listen to your outrageous accusations.”

Barely Aziraphale managed not stomp his feet like a petulant child and was about to turn and leave when Crowley grabbed his arm. Crowley stepped closer and hissed in Aziraphale’s ear.

“Am I striking a nerve, kitten?” he asked.

With narrowed eyes Aziraphale glowered at the angel. Forcefully he ripped his arm out of Crowley’s grip.

“Indeed!” he said, calm as he could manage. “The fact that the man I loved for over 1800 years doubts _my_ love and accuses me of betraying his trust does in fact ‘strike a nerve’! Good day, Mr. Crowley!”

Aziraphale did not give Crowley any chance to answer, but felt the angel’s burning gaze following him while walking away. But Aziraphale fought. He fought the urge to look back, fought the tears and fought the wish to run into Crowley’s arms.

*

Crowley stood frozen as he watched Aziraphale leave. That had not gone well. Maybe Crowley should have followed Aziraphale, but they both were angry at the moment. Any discussion they would have now, carried a high risk of making it worse. And it was bad enough.

So Crowley just sighed and went home. He would fix this. Soon.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story ends with this universe’s equivalent of the St. James Park scene, therefore not exactly on a happy note but with a fight. But again, I promise the series will end well, they will be alive and together!


End file.
